Tell me this isn’t true?: Refusing to have sex with a woman whilst she is on her periods now makes you a misogynist.

I have to say from the get that I have done it and it never once bothered me. That is have sex with a woman whilst she was on her periods. But according to one feminist, a man who refuses to have sex with a woman whilst she is on her periods is tantamount to being a misogynist. What? How does that ad up?

feministe: I think it’s weird when guys don’t want to have period sex (just to clarify, ‘period sex’ is when you have sex while a girl is ‘menstruating’ or ‘bleeding out of her vagina,’ in case you were wondering). Listen: I don’t think you should have to eat pussy when it’s leaking the red stuff, I don’t even think it’s necessary that you touch it with your hand (if you’re the queasy type it’s probably better if you don’t) but there are reasons why period sex is much less disgusting than you think.

As a man I’m curious why this author thinks it’s weird if a man doesn’t want to have period sex. Is that to say a man’s aspirations in the bedroom define his views on women? Would the author argue that if she liked a bit of violent or aggressive love making that would qualify her as a hater of men? Or just kinky or free to choose her boundaries?

So if a man can be free to choose his boundaries (he doesn’t want to have sex with a woman on the rags) he then by definition is a hater of woman? A hater of the vagina. A hater of the idea that a vagina can never be anything but a photo shopped pristine image cause as men the instant we realize what women can be makes us run down the hill?

But there’s more:

See, I imagine the taste of blood isn’t so nice when it’s coming out of someone else’s genitals (even if you were the sort of kid that would graze themselves and then suck on the wound), hence why I can forgive a man for not wanting to go down on me while Aunty Flo’s in town. And I’m guessing any sort of digital action would probably lead to dirty sheets as his hands crept elsewhere in moments of passion, so I can sort of (only just) forgive him for not wanting to finger me when I’m on the rag. But sex? When your penis is covered in latex and you don’t have to taste it, look at it or touch it, no apologies, I don’t understand what the problem is.

So essentially as long as we as men anaesthetise the experience we shouldn’t be bothered by it, but to be bothered by it suggests somehow that we are bothered by women? Really? Is this a view many women share? Is that why women make such an effort to get their hair and nails done, cause they reckon we will only want to be with them as long as they accede to some preferred version of ideal femininity that men lob over their heads? And if we digress then we hate them?

What about if we adore a woman for all her faults, does that finally liberate a woman? But what if she can’t liberate herself and will only allow herself the luxury of feeling that she is wanted when we agree to accept at her most primal? What if as men we refuse to accept her at her most primal? Are we then just heathen? Are not allowed a choice in the matter? What if one of my girlfriends demanded I take a shower before lovemaking and I refused, would that then make me a misogynist too? Should I then expect a visit from the local police precinct? Or will I wake up in the morning to find her gone?

And here’s where the author gets really juicy:

“I don’t want to be with someone who thinks that a natural, healthy uterus-having body is gross.” Do you have a right to refuse to have period sex because you think bleeding vaginas be nasty? Of course. And do I have a right to leave your ass and think less of you because of that? You betcha. Because it does come down to misogyny, basically — most pre-menopausal people with uteruses and vaginas who are old enough to consent to sex bleed once a month. Vaginas do not exist as sterile, liquid-free penis receptacles (although I hear there’s a toy for that).

So if a woman doesn’t like the taste of your manliness does that make her in equal terms a hater of men? Are you then compelled to douse yourself in chocolate cake lotion until she relents, and what if you tell her it’s just who you are- does that still make you a hater of women for not finding a way to accommodate her desires? What happened to the freedom of choice?

Yes vaginas bleed and that is the course of nature and hopefully most women recognize that most men are sensitive to such events, otherwise we as men would be leaving women high and dry, and last time I looked there were still plenty of men involved with women on a long term basis.

Which brings up my final point if vaginas do not exist as sterile, liquid free penis receptacles then what do they exist for? Where does the author come up with the idea that men are essentially opportunistic players who use women to manifest a preferred fantasy (in this case Mother Teresa maternal figure who just so happens to looks like Barbie but like the plastic Barbie never bleeds).

Frankly there is a way out: put a towel or three on the floor, bed or wherever and if the man refuses, just understand it’s his prerogative but I’m willing to bet ladies if you talk sweet and dirty he’ll be looking forward to that time of the month, assuming you don’t hold him to a pedestal of how he is expected to act…

TRENDING TODAY

i dunno. I’m female, every partner i’ve had in the past has made no issue of period sex. So to me it’s very strange that a man doesn’t want to… I guess just based on experience :/ But I feel like that doesn’t make him a misogynist, he’s just not very open minded…

Scott Mclelland

and here was me thinking no means no and no one had the right to demand you have sex, nor coerce you into having it through name calling ……….

Crimson Tide

Spend some time reading the comments, you’ll find all kinds of crazy being uttered in there. Such as that women who are uncomfortable with having period sex being misogynist against themselves.

About

I think the idea to start “Scallywag and Vagabond.” (SCV) originates from my myriad background and the many years I have spent in preferred cafes and brasseries extolling the virtues and subtle intricacies of ‘being’ as the Beaujolais ran, the cigarette wafted and the gentleman to my side pontificated while spraying himself with a deftly tied cravat and sun crested idolatry.’

I grew up in Australia where as a young man one was obliged to become a hero of sorts. A master swimmer, fighter of causes, ideals and disheveled denizen of aesthetics, and more often a carefree ‘larrikin’ who would occasionally poke his sun bronzed nose at authority and convention Read More